In The End
by SorainaSkye
Summary: Mangaverse, EdWin, set after the promised day. She bakes an apple pie everyday. They will come back. They- she- he- promised. They will come back.


Woo! An Ed/Winry one-shot! Let's see...this is taking a bit of an angsty approach to what will happen after the 'promised day'. Ends happily, I swear!

No, this was not inspired by the linkin park song. The title is just the same. However, some parts might just fit this story, so give it a listen. I don't really know if it does, I haven't tried that. Anywho, enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I AM TRUTH! THAT IS BETTER THAN OWNING FMA! I AM THE MOST POWERFUL BEING IN THE FMA WORLD! MUHAHA!

Don't sure all-powerful fictional characters. It's not nice. (I'm kidding, but, seriously, don't sue)

Thanks to my awesome FMA beta: please-knock. Check out her cute EdWin stories. My personal favorite is 'Playing the Hero'. Oh, and check out my FMA chapter fic, 'When Waiting is Done'- lots of EdWin, and general FMA goodness. Royai and AlMei too. I have other FMA one-shots if you're interested as well. :D Sorry, shameless self-promotion...

Anyway, to make a long story short -too late for that, huh?- enjoy! Reviews make me smile inside!

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In the End

She bakes an apple pie every day.

It didn't start out that way, not at first. Two days passed before she began making them, starting in the late afternoon and finishing in the evening.

_"You know Ed and Al,"_ She'd say, waving her flour-coated hand in the air._ "It's not like they're going to call before they come. If I don't start making pie now, I'll never have it ready at the right time."_ Then she would smile, and get back to work on the dessert.

It's not like she neglects her other work- oh no, she'd never do that. Automail is a big part of her life- one of the things she loves most. She works just as hard on her engineering as she does on her pies- _and soon her grandmother begins to think that the word rest' is becoming a foreign word to her granddaughter._

Oh no, she doesn't neglect the automail work. Not at first.

She's remarkably talented at multi-tasking. She'd have to be, with the life she's led. She juggles so many things- her grandmother's requests, automail she has to build, chores around the house, keeping an ear open for any phone calls, just in case. And then, on top of all she is doing, resides another task. Something far more important. And so she bakes the pies every day. She bakes them- _blows her money on flour and sugar and all the apples she gets, because this one task resides above all else, because she has to be ready for when they come back, like they promised, like she promised, like he promised and-_

By the time word reaches them of the homunculi's defeat, Winry has stopped making automail. On the surface, everything else is normal. She still smiles and talks to her grandmother, helps with automail designs- but she never builds any herself. She doesn't have the time.

She has to be ready for when they come back.

Weeks pass. They received a message- not a phone call, for neither was there when the call was placed. Instead, there is a message left behind. It is short-_not like she expected anything different, but still, it's his voice, and she can't stop listening to it over and over and over_- but in the message Ed says that both he and Al are fine- better than fine, for Al's body has been returned, and that they'll be coming back as soon as they can.

"_You better have that pie ready, Winry!"_ And the message ends.

And she smiles again, getting to work.

She doesn't eat all the pie herself. No, there are enough people in Resembool to give a pie to- more than one pie at that. Some she leaves on doorsteps or windowsills- others she brings to the door. But she never eats one of them. Not a bite. She's waiting for that pie that they'll eat together- and until that time she won't have any of the pies she makes.

Weeks blend into months. And the days find her staring out the window- _staring, as the sun blends into the moon, as the days and weeks go by with no word, no whisper, looking at the road and never giving up, never stopping because they promised, because she promised, because he promised and-_

She knows it wouldn't be that simple. Of course, there is still danger, people to hunt down and stop. She knew that they wouldn't be able to come right away. She knows that they will come eventually, and she keeps making the pies.

She has to be ready.

She has to be ready for when they come back-_they'll sit together, just like they used to, laughing and smiling and eating the pie together, and Ed will smile, and She will smile, and Al will smile at them both-_

When nearly a year has passed, she wakes up from a half-sleep -_for she never really sleeps anymore, she has to be awake when they return_- and she rushes to a table, drawing out a new automail design. That design leads to an idea for Ed's arm, and she begins to draw that out too- when she remembers that he no longer has an automail arm. She stops. She is not sad, but she stands up, and goes back to her half-sleep.

_Never has she felt so useless._

She shows her grandmother the designs in the morning. After all, automail is automail, and just because she has to keep making pies doesn't mean that she can't still work on automail too. Her grandmother smiles, and they set to work.

They are almost done when she stops and heads for the kitchen. Her grandmother doesn't say anything- she's said it all before. Winry wouldn't stop making the pies, not for automail, or her grandmother, or anyone besides Ed and Al.

A year has passed, and they receive another message.

"_...sorry we haven't been able to come yet, but we will..."_

And she thinks that maybe she can detect in his voice a sadness- like being away from her is killing him too. And then he speaks stronger-

"_So you just keep that pie ready, Winry! Al and I- we're coming to eat it."_

And she smiles again. She knows what is expected of her- what they promised, what she promised, what he promised- and she starts another pie. She's been sending them out of town now, so that none lay around her house.

More months pass.

She hasn't given up. She won't give up, can never give up- _because they promised, she promised, he promised_- and she still looks out the window, down the road.

When it has been a year and half since she has seen the Elric brothers, she begins to crumble a little- _just around the edges where no one can see, except in the night or when they ask those questions, or when the store owner tells her that he is out of flour or when her grandmother is looking hard enough_- but she still doesn't give up.

It would be easier-_and harder_- to endure if she didn't know that the brothers were crumbling too. She had heard the signs of it, in their last message. She wonders why they began crumbling before she did- it's not like she is stronger than they are. And then she realizes-

_She is simply used to waiting._

She doesn't cry. She has no reason to. Of course she misses them- _misses them like a breathing thing, a burning thing, misses them and him like she can hardly imagine, so much that she screams every night to let it out, so much that her grandmother has stopped coming when she hears the screams because they happen so often_- but missing them isn't going to make her cry.

_She- they- he- promised, after all._

And one day, when she wakes, she knows. She realizes, and goes running down the stairs. She doesn't have time to work on automail today- _I can't, granny, they're coming back! I have to be ready_- and she immediately starts on an apple pie.

When the moon begins to rise, she stands on the porch, staring without refrain at the darkness before her. And then she sees them.

And she is running, arms out, mouth gasping, calling out the names in a mantra, names she hasn't said in far too long- _Ed, Al! You're here! Al! Ed_-

And she throws her arms around them, hugging them tight. And they all fall against each other- _together, all three of them, as it was always supposed to be_- and she realizes that she had been crumbling a lot more than she had thought-_that there was almost nothing left, it had almost all fallen apart, and they came just in time, they all came together just in time to rebuild the broken fragments of each other, they came together and they saved her, like they always did, like he always did-_

And she's crying, the tears falling across her smiling lips.

"_Ha, what'd I tell you?"_ he says. _"I always keep my promises."_

And she steps back, and leads them along, back to the house, where the pie is waiting. They eat it together, and Al smiles and Ed smiles- _and she loves them, loves him, so much she feels like crying all over again, like throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him so hard that he'd fall on the floor_-and she smiles back.

He looks at his brother, and then at her. The pie has been eaten, and they are side by side.

"_We're home,"_ He says. Al nods. _"We're back."_

She smiles again, knowing just how true their words are.

She meets him later, and neither says anything at first. He is looking out at the dark town, at the stars covering it, and she knows that he knows she's there- but he waits until she is beside him to start talking. He tells her about the battle, who died and how they won.

"_A lot of people died, Winry. Sometimes, I thought I was going to, too. But I couldn't..."_

He turns to her, and he smiles. _"I knew you'd be waiting for us. And I knew I had to come, make you cry tears of happiness, and eat that apple pie."_

And suddenly he's hugging her- _tight and shaking, somehow expressing in this one gesture just how scared he was, how much he feared her getting hurt, his brother getting hurt, of never seeing her again, hoping she'll understand-_

And she does. She hugs him back.

And it is then, pressing his face into her hair that he says it-

"_I'm home,"_ he says. _"I'm home."_

And she hears what he doesn't say. What he can't say, yet, but will, one day. She twists up, and presses her lips to his, smiling at his red face and wide eyes when she pulls back.

"_Yes,"_ She says. _"You're home."_

And he pulls her toward him again, hearing what she leaves unspoken for that day. He kisses her this time, and for a moment, she thinks that he's crying tears of happiness too.

They had kept their promises. And in the end-_though it was hard, and at times they had both been breaking, at times it had seemed hopeless_- they had kept their promises.

_...I love you._

And now they were together, evermore.

_...Yeah, I love you too._


End file.
